


Thank You and Goodbye

by YoMo715



Series: Dororo (2019) One-shots [1]
Category: Dororo (Anime)
Genre: (POV) Hyakkimaru, Angst, Feels, Hurt/Comfort, Ouch, Pain, episode 6 spoilers, idk i had to write something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 06:28:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17761556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoMo715/pseuds/YoMo715
Summary: What is the pain of grief to one who's never experienced it?





	Thank You and Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> in other words Hyakkimaru is sad and Dororo lends a hand to try and help him feel better :'D  
> EP 6 SPOILERS!!

Everything hurts. And by everything, he means  _ everything _ . His muscles and leg sear from the strain. The air is hot and dry, the wind whipping up needles of heat that prickle his cheeks. There’s blood too: thick, warm, and sticky. 

He can’t see the inferno in front of him, but he most certainly can hear it. It roars, snapping sturdy wooden beams like twigs, and it howls as it devours. He can feel it too, snarling at him like it’s alive, like it’s another beast to slay. But it’s too late, now. It’s already eaten everything it can, and in an hour or so, it will disperse into embers and disappear. 

Her soul is gone now, too. The last of her rust colored echoes fade away into little nothings. All that remains is the empty shell that he cannot see. 

He knows Dororo can see her. His little white flame still kneels on the ground, arms outstretched, palms encircling darkness. He must be holding her hand. 

Hyakkimaru’s throat hurts. He’s screamed so loud and for so long that it almost feels like the sound’s been burned into his very core. It hurt to scream like that, to breathe in flames of rage and agony and expel them with gnashing teeth and claws. He can still feel that strange vibration assaulting him. His bones still rattle. His ears still ring.

Deep down he wishes he can keep screaming, because the sting hurts him so much that it makes him feel numb. Numb is nothing compared to the peace of his old world, but it’s close enough that he thinks he feels something like his old self again. 

That’s not what he wanted, though, is it? It’s not why he left Jukai’s side, to begin this arduous journey to become ‘human.’ 

“Hyakkimaru.” 

The call pulls him from that dark string of thoughts. The only white in the immediate area stands on two legs and faces him. They’re the same height in this moment, and Hyakkimaru remembers what it’s like to be that small, to have to look up at the big world and try not to shrink back from your own smallness. Dororo’s still just a child, but he looks so grown up from this angle. 

There’s a little hitch in the boy’s voice. Spoken words still don’t come naturally to Hyakkimaru, but he’s beginning to decipher their meanings. He manages to make out, “Danger-,” “Arms,” and, “Go,” which is easy enough for him to understand. Dororo’s voice sticks again, making that strange, choking noise, and his soul twitches as he moves towards Hyakkimaru and grips the sleeve of his kimono, tugging him onwards. 

It’s time to get going. 

***

Dororo’s handed Hyakkimaru something. It’s large and heavy, he can tell by the strain on his prostheses. He knocks on it, listening to the hard, muddy clank against his bamboo knuckle. A stone? 

Before he knows it, Dororo’s moving him again, gently pushing on his back to get him to lean down. He should be used to this by now, but can’t help but feel the tickle of annoyance from the unsolicited movements. If only he can understand what Dororo is saying, he can just do it himself. 

“Put it here.” Dororo walks in front of him and gestures to the spot atop the last mound of dirt they’ve just dug up. There are at least a half dozen more of these mounds behind this one and the one beside it. 

He feels that strain on his chest again, the one that makes him feel heavy and burns the back of his throat. The pain is almost worse than the kind caused by his screams. Almost. 

Dororo pats the mound again. “....Here......Mio……..” 

Hyakkimaru probably could have made out the rest, but her name strikes the stone in his chest and suddenly he wants to scream all over again. 

He kneels and places the stone on her mound, then allows himself to let his hand linger atop of it. Tiny white flames of bugs and other creatures sprinkle themselves on top of the stone and the surrounding earth, allowing him to see the work he and Dororo put in. 

Jukai’s taught him a word for this kind of formation, where the places the shells of the souls go when he can no longer see them. 

_ Grave.  _

He’s always thought he understood what that was. He knows, now, that the shells of those souls mean something. Especially now that he can feel those shells, feel their residual warmth fade long after their souls sparkle into rust. The softness of them. How frail they are. 

Even though their souls have left, a part of them still lingers, and that means something to the ones they’ve left behind. 

He’s knows now, and he’s glad that people do this for them. That he can do this for her. 

Dororo’s gone quiet, knelt beside him with hands folded together in prayer. The whole forest is quiet, and it’s amazing. Only a week or two ago, he agonized at every creak and groan of the woods, every screech of the bird and blare of the fauna. But after the screaming and the fire...birds don’t screech, they sing. The forest isn’t loud, it simply twitches with hints of life. 

The bird’s songs are nice. They tweet their little tunes and sing without care. He looks up and spots a few amongst the tangle of green, and thinks maybe they’re singing to them. 

“...Want….say….?” Dororo whispers, voice jarring against the sounds of the birds. 

Hyakkimaru turns to look at him. Say what? Dororo knows he still doesn’t like speaking.

Besides, if he opens his mouth, he’s afraid he might scream again. 

“Come on, big brother,” Dororo encourages, nudging him. “Say……….Mio.” 

His jaw tightens at her name again. He hates this. This pain eating at his gut, gnawing at him and tightening his chest into knots. It’s not physical pain, he knows, because he’s only felt it once before, and that was before he’d gained a sense of physical pain. 

He knows what Dororo is encouraging him to do. He just doesn’t want to do it, but he should, because if he doesn’t, he knows this pain will never stop. 

He sits back on his heels and stares at the stone atop the largest grave of the pile. He doesn’t clasp his hands in prayer, but rests them neatly above his legs, as Jukai allowed him to do during this sort of event. 

The birds still sing their sweet song to the duo below. 

“Mio,” Hyakkimaru begins. He nearly chokes on the word, the pain flashing to the forefront, as well as the uncomfortable hollow sound that buzzes against his chest and throat. 

Dororo pats his arm. “It’s okay,” he speaks softly. “Take your…” 

Hyakkimaru looks over at Dororo, and again he can’t help but notice how tall the soul seems to be. Even though he can see him beginning to twitch again, his soul is bright and vibrant, confident and warm. 

Jukai once told Hyakkimaru that he’s the way he is because of his will to survive. 

Is this what he meant? 

“Strong,” he ends up saying. 

“Huh?” Dororo’s soul flickers, facing him, but Hyakkimaru doesn’t to speak him again. 

Instead, he turns back to the grave, searching his new, limited vocal vocabulary for words to steel himself forward. He settles on three. “Thank you.” and, “Goodbye.” He writes the rest in a letter on her grave. As he does, that unforgiving pain snaps him like a string, searing his throat and burning his soul, and for a moment he thinks he might be screaming again. It’s so hot, and it hurts so much that it’s hard for him to breathe. Something hot and wet slip down his cheek. It feels like water, but it’s warm to the touch. 

He hears Dororo begin to choke again, and for some reason, it brings him comfort. They must be feeling the same kind of pain. It’s validated when he feels Dororo wrap his arms around his shoulders and squeezes. The warm droplets slip off of his cheeks and onto his shoulder, and he knows he’s not alone. 

Hyakkimaru’s letter is short and will disappear in a few day’s time, turned to mud by wind and rain. 

_ Thank you. I’m sorry. I’ll win, too, so don’t worry.  _

 

When they leave, they scatter a few of the seeds around the graveyard hoping maybe, by some miracle, one of them might take.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm obsessed with this new anime. Hyakkimaru is such an interesting character! Let's be real here, I love all of them so far tho :'D
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!  
> Feedback is always appreciated!


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